


Just When I Thought We'd Have a Normal Weekend

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: BTHB--MultiFandom [3]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Blood, Gore, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I still haven't read anything but fanfiction for this fandom so don't expect it to be good, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Major Character Death, Whump, for both the boys, i guess?, tws for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: When Baz wakes up, he and Simon are chained to beds. One thing is for sure—this is definitely NOT their home.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: BTHB--MultiFandom [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760653
Kudos: 18





	Just When I Thought We'd Have a Normal Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> TWs in tags. I have never read anything but fanfiction on this series, so expect OOC-ness. Written in Third Person Limited because I’m tired.

**Baz**

When he woke up chained to the bed, his first thought was _Are you kidding me._

He was hardly surprised at first. Someone had gotten the jump on him and Snow when they were walking home from somewhere. Of course, as a result—wait.

_Simon._

Beside him, in the darkness, he could hear chains clinking and someone grunting, gasping for air. “Simon, that you?” He asked as loudly as he dared. Turning his head, he caught a glimpse of his boyfriend. “Simon, you need to stop. It’s okay—we’re alone.”

However, being the loveable idiot that he was, Simon simply continued to jerk at his chains. He was scared, that much was obvious. There were chains around his wrists and ankles, one around his waist to pin him down. That last one was larger, extending from the bottom of his ribcage to his hips. Baz had a matching set.

There were others, however, and much crueller ones.

Suddenly, Baz could smell something familiar in the air. Blood. Specifically _Simon’s_ blood. It was coming from his wings, which were stretched out and behind him with chains and weights. Something like barbed wire had been stabbed into them, even piercing the fragile membrane in some areas. Moving was creating larger tears in the membrane. If Simon didn’t stop…

“Baz, we need—I can’t—” Gasping, Simon glanced over at him.

“Simon, you need to stop.” Gritting his teeth when his boyfriend wouldn’t listen to him, Baz finally snapped, _“Simon, quit moving you’re going to hurt yourself even more.”_

Chest heaving, Simon yanked at the restraints just a tiny bit more, then laid back and stared at the ceiling. He was crying, salt joining the coppery tang of blood in the air. “Baz, we can’t—we need to get out of here.” More tears ran down his face, and all Baz wanted to do was get to him. But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t move because he was strapped down to something.

No, wait, he wasn’t strapped down. He was _chained_. To a _bed_.

_What the heck was going on?_

After a moment, Baz started struggling, feeling something cut into his wrists the moment he put pressure on any single side. There were blades set in the shackles, he realized with a chill. Doubtlessly, they were probably in Simon’s, too, which meant he was _really_ hurting himself by struggling. “Simon, how do you feel right now? Do you feel alright?” He asked, looking over. Already, he could see dark puddles on the sheets where Simon’s blood was beginning to soak them. He did have the same blades.

_How long was he struggling for? How much has he been bleeding?_

_Am I going to have to watch him die?_

After a few more times of calling his name, Baz finally got an answer. “I—I don’t know, Baz. We…weird, I guess.” His head lolled to the side, and even in the darkness Baz could see his eyes were half-closed.

“Simon, you need to open your eyes, okay? You need to open them right now. Simon!” His boyfriend’s eyes fluttered open just a little bit more, and Baz lifted his head. He could do that, thankfully, and it gave him a better vantage point of where they were. “Alright, Simon, I’ll get us out of here any moment. You just focus on staying conscious, okay?” Glancing over, he asked, “Si?”

“Yeah, Baz. I…I know.”

He sounded weak. Too weak. Of course, anything would be too weak for Baz’s liking, but this was worse. He needed to get them out _now_ , before Simon bled out. Glancing down at the chains, he squinted at the room around them. Every so often, he’d ask Simon how he was feeling. Sometimes the reply was immediate, other times it was much more slowly than Baz would like.

Eventually he resorted to shouting for help.

They’d been captured, after all, not immediately killed. And Simon was the Chosen One. Surely their captors knew what that meant. And he doubted they wanted Simon dead by the time they got back from…wherever they had gone. Obviously, he was going out on some sort of limb here—maybe they had captured them just to kill them. Why else would they have those kinds of shackles? It was beyond odd, Baz hadn’t seen anything like them before.

“Simon? How are you feeling?” Glancing over, he noticed Simon wasn’t really doing much of anything. His eyes were unfocused, staring up at the ceiling in a half-lidded daze. Holding his breath, Baz strained his ears. He could just hear Simon’s breathing, quick and shallow and barely audible. His heart was too fast, trying to make up for the blood loss. “Simon! Simon, stay with me! Simon!”

He didn’t register when someone came in, too terrified to do anything but shout Simon’s name.

+++

**Simon**

He wasn’t expecting to wake up at all.

He tried to move but couldn’t. Something was wrapped around each wrist beyond the bandages, keeping him from pulling his arms off the sheets by more than a couple inches. _What?_ There was something bright just beyond his eyelids. But he couldn’t open his eyes.

And there was something shoved down his throat. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but it _was_ odd. And he was…really tired…

Dimly, he could hear voices, but he couldn’t make out any words before the darkness swallowed him again.

When he faded back into reality, someone’s hand was holding his. Their thumb stroked over the back of his hand. He could hear the familiar cadence of Baz’s voice, soft as it was. “…not letting anyone use magic on you…it’s too stressful or something.” A bitter laugh echoed from his boyfriend’s throat, and Simon would have given anything to open his eyes in that second. “They think they’re going to put you back under again, give your wings a chance to heal more. I promise I’ll visit when I can, okay? We’ll find them.”

Simon couldn’t ask who this ‘them’ was, but he wanted to know. More than that, he wanted Baz to stay with him, to keep holding his hand like that. By the time he could have asked, though, he was out again.

He started fighting every time he woke up after that. He wasn’t letting go, he wasn’t giving up just like that. Penny and Agatha made time to visit, but mostly it was just Baz. Sometimes with other people, but normally just him. On occasion, there’d be doctors. Someone commented that Simon didn’t look like he was waking up.

He wanted to scream at them. Of course he was awake, he was just tired. Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. But he was going to fight.

They weren’t getting rid of him that easily.

When he finally got the strength back to open his eyes, he was alone. His hand, however, was still cool in the way that meant Baz had been there moments before. _Come on, Simon, you better stay awake. At least until he comes back._ Rather than try to move and risk exhausting himself, he stared at the ceiling and counted tiles, took inventory of his limbs and wings and tail. The latter two felt weird. They weren’t spelled away, but he was in the hospital. Somehow.

What had happened?

Baz finally walked in, although he didn’t see Simon’s eyes were open. His eyes were on the ground. “Hey, Si.” _You little piece of—look at me, damn it!_ Baz’s fingers wrapped around his, and no words were spoken. If Simon could talk—the tube was still in his mouth, the damn thing—he would be shouting at Baz. But this was good enough.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a slightly deeper breath and focused everything he had into moving his fingers.

It was stupid, really, how much energy it was taking. What normally would be easy suddenly felt like pushing a stone dragon up ten thousand stairs. _Come on, Simon. Just move your fingers. Come on!_

After a couple minutes, he got his hand to twitch. That was it. Opening his eyes, he almost growled in frustration, but the _tube_ wasn’t _letting him make any sound_ so he _couldn’t make any sound that would let Baz know he was awake._

Baz’s eyes flicked to his hand, and he frowned a little. Blinking, he looked up and Simon saw his boyfriend’s entire face light up. “Hey, love.”

When Simon had full control of his limbs and voice a couple days later, he let Baz have it about his first word to Simon being ‘ _hey’._

**Author's Note:**

> The hospital was magic for plot convenience. I’m too lazy to come up with a better explanation than that.  
> N4—Chained to a Bed


End file.
